


Workshop in Serial Publishing and Office Romances

by sleepy_santiago



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, Online Romance, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_santiago/pseuds/sleepy_santiago
Summary: Abed Nadir wore soft cardigans, practiced smiling in the employee bathroom mirror on Monday mornings, and was an absolute demon of a marketing manager. At least to Troy. Nobody else at the Muse Magazine headquarters seemed to understand why Troy tried to hide behind plants and water coolers whenever he saw Abed round the corner.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 23
Kudos: 120





	Workshop in Serial Publishing and Office Romances

**Author's Note:**

> Hallmark romance meets You've Got Mail meets Community in this self-indulgent rush job Christmas special. Woooo

Abed Nadir wore soft cardigans, practiced smiling in the employee bathroom mirror on Monday mornings, and was an absolute demon of a marketing manager. At least to Troy. Nobody else at the  _ Muse Magazine _ headquarters seemed to understand why Troy tried to hide behind plants and water coolers whenever he saw Abed round the corner.

“Troy, you’re about a foot wider than that potted palm,” Abed drawled. 

“I wasn’t trying to hide,” Troy insisted, reluctantly stepping out from behind the plant. He leaned against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I was just...hanging out.”

Abed raised a slim eyebrow. “Hanging out? In a corridor that is neither our actual office space nor the break room? With no one around for yards?”

Troy looked around. Sure enough, all his work friends sat at their desks down the corridor in the office area, engaged in their own activities — Annie hunched over her computer and typed studiously, Britta rubbed the lenses of her perpetually dirty glasses with the hem of her shirt, and Shirley somehow simultaneously sipped her coffee and filled in a sudoku puzzle as she spoke to someone on the phone. 

Troy scratched the back of his head. “Well...you’re one to talk, Mr. Popular.”

Abed wrinkled his nose and slurped on his iced coffee, because of course he ordered iced coffee in the middle of a slushy East Coast winter, and leaned in to flick the collar of Troy’s letterman jacket. “You know there are ways to dress and act that don’t make it look like you peaked in high school and never got over it, right?”

Troy huffed indignantly, but his morning brain worked too slow to come up with any worthwhile comeback. All he could do was watch the way Abed’s expensive-looking grey trousers clung to his legs as he walked.

Troy dropped into his seat beside Annie and whipped the knitted toque off his head, seething. “Is he allowed to talk to me like that? I mean, he’s a manager and I’m an intern — he doesn’t manage  _ me _ , but it’s still technically employer misconduct, right? This is workplace harassment! I should go to HR. Also, this jacket is lined and has leather sleeves — it’s one of my warmest jackets! What else would I wear in thirty-degree weather? Annie, are you listening?”

Annie grunted.  _ Clack-clack-clack _ , went her keyboard.

Troy groaned and flopped back in his chair. Everyone liked Troy. He was the Wonder Boy. He smiled at everyone, even on Monday mornings when nobody wanted to smile back, he participated in after-work happy hours, and he doled out ( _ sincere _ ) compliments like a machine. He was ninety-percent sure that Jeff, the Editor in Chief, would offer him a real job here when his graphic design internship ended in two months. So why couldn’t Abed like him?

“Because he’s an asshole who’s never known love,” Troy reminded himself through gritted teeth. His fingers packed more of a rigid punch than usual as he typed his log-in details into the computer. He pulled up his email. 

The first email in his inbox was a reply from Spacetimer8032. Troy’s heart thudded against his ribcage. If Abed was Troy’s personal demon, Spacetimer8032 was his guardian angel. Ever since Troy had met the guy on an  _ Inspector Spacetime _ fan forum a few months ago, they had exchanged emails daily. Troy didn’t know what Spacetimer8032 looked like, but he did know his favourite food (buttered noodles), where he had worked in high school (his town mall’s Yogurtsburgh), and that Troy was almost definitely one hundred percent in love with him. 

_ Good morning, Constable! At least, I think it will be morning when you read this. I don’t think anyone is awake at the ungodly hours my brain decides to imbue me with a productive spirit — the only reason I survive having a nine-to-five job these days is because of Greendale Coffee Roasters’ iced peppermint mochas.  _

_ Those mochas are only one of the things I love about the holiday season. A few other things I love: Christmas movies with my mom on December 9, critically-reviled  _ Inspector Spacetime _ holiday specials, and the way the snow looks at night when it’s just fallen and hasn’t been touched, illuminated only by the glow of Christmas lights strung across all the houses. _

_ Do you celebrate Christmas? What are your plans this holiday season? _

Troy could feel his eyes morphing into heart shapes.

“What are you sighing about?” Annie finally looked away from her screen. “Is that the nerdy guy you have a crush on?”

“Shh, Annie!” Troy hissed.

“What? It’s not like he’s here.” Annie rolled her eyes. “When are you going to meet him, anyway? Don’t you think you guys should make it official?” Her eyes glinted. “Actually, I’m in the middle of interviewing couples who met through movies for this feature story right now…”

“It’s not like that,” Troy mumbled. Even though he’d fallen for Spacetimer8032, Spacetimer8032 didn’t feel the same way. They would make a good match — a great match — but like pretty much everyone else Troy had ever loved, crushed on, or even considered sidling up to at a bar, Spacetimer8032 had his heart set on someone else.

That didn’t faze Troy. Their friendship meant more to him than his own affections. He had no problem bottling his feelings in the name of maintaining what they had now, he told himself as he clicked “Reply.”

Troy’s heart twinged.

No problem at all.

~

Abed settled into his seat across from Jeff’s. He placed his iced peppermint mocha five inches left of his keyboard. He typed in his log-in details and waited for the computer’s chime. He adjusted the webcam on top of the monitor — left, right, center. 

With every step of his morning routine completed, he sat back and nodded at Jeff. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Jeff yawned. “You weren’t at Skeeper’s last night. Also, did you get the report I forwarded you?”

“I’m never at Skeeper’s,” said Abed. “And I’ll check in a minute.”

“Why not?” Jeff whined. “You used to come with us after work. It was fun.”

Abed shrugged. “Got less fun, I guess.” He’d gone with his work friends when they instigated the tradition a few months ago. When Troy started working at  _ Muse _ , Abed had tagged along to every Skeeper’s happy hour, but watching Troy hit on the pretty people at the pool table got old after a while. 

Abed tended not to branch out of his small social circle at work, which consisted of Jeff, Pavel the finance guy, and Karl the marketing intern — the three people who sat nearest to Abed. Troy made him want to branch out, though. 

Abed thought he’d been on the right track with Troy — guys like him, guys who wore letter jackets and played football in college, they thrived off friendly ribbing and antagonism, didn’t they? But Troy remained as distant as ever. Literally. Abed glanced over at Troy, who sat with the design and community folks on the other side of the open office space.

Troy, Abed’s mother...everyone seemed to migrate away from Abed these days.

Abed shook his head. He filed away that line of thought and opened his inbox. Almost forty new emails filled his screen, but he only sought one. Smiling, he clicked on the newest message from EmotionalConstable04.

_ Dear Inspector, _

_ It became a good morning when I received your email! It didn’t really start out that great. I had another run-in with the coworker I told you about. The one that hates me for no good reason, even though all I’ve ever done is try to get him to like me back. Ugh, I’m getting mad just thinking about him. Anyways, I hope you had a better start to your day. _

_ Your Christmas plans sound really nice. I’ve never celebrated Christmas before. My family are Jehovah’s Witnesses. I’ve never had a birthday party, exchanged Christmas gifts, or brought home a Mother’s Day craft from elementary school. I guess the rules stopped mattering after I moved out for college, but those celebrations just weren’t in my habit, so I never did anything about it. _

_ I think my work is doing a staff holiday party, though (really, it’s probably a Christmas party. IDK why they don’t just say it, it’s not like they’re bothering with any decorations other than the Christmas tree and stuff. One of my coworkers who put up all the “holiday decorations” says we have to “keep it PC” but  _ she’s _ the Christmas nut, so I’m pretty sure HR is making her “keep it PC.” It’s a whole thing. Speaking of HR, I think I’m gonna try to file a report on the coworker that hates me. What do you think?). _

_ Wow, sorry, I didn’t mean for that aside to get that long. I’ll sign off now, I guess. Bye! _

Abed’s cheeks hurt with the force of his smile.

“Geez, I didn’t think data analytics would make you this happy,” said Jeff.

“What?”

Jeff’s eyebrows peaked. “The report, Abed. The one I sent you earlier?”

“Oh. Right.” Abed sighed and clicked back into his inbox. Replying to EmotionalConstable04 would have to wait.

~

Troy didn’t receive a response from Spacetimer8032 until about half an hour before the end of the work day. When the notification popped up at the bottom right corner of his screen, he eagerly clicked away from the  _ Die Hard _ Christmas edit in his InDesign tab and opened the email.

_ My workplace is throwing a “holiday” (read: Christmas) party too. Are you open to Christmas activities, commercial or otherwise? Are they something you would like to do? The party might be a good opportunity to get closer to your work frenemy somehow. ‘Tis the season, right? _

_ My boss — a good friend of mine — has been getting on my case about socializing. I’ve never been a social butterfly...quite the opposite, in fact. I would rather spend my time on one person who matters to me than on a bunch of people I don’t really care about, no offense to them. I think if I try harder for this party, he’ll ease up on me. Like, if I bring a date or something. But who knows how that would happen. I’m not really a dating app guy. _

_ A part of me feels like investing my energy in this isn’t worth it. Is that bad? I never wanted to work in marketing, ever. My dream was always to do something more grand — movie director, creative director… I guess I just want to be creative and call the shots. But my father’s a first-generation immigrant and he drilled it into me early on that I would do something that would earn stable money, something that would let us not have to worry about making the next bill the way we did when I was a kid. He didn’t  _ make _ me go to business school, but...I kind of had to.  _

_ What I’m trying to say is, this job is starting to feel more and more temporary. Like a stepping stone. I remember telling you that I do at least get to talk about movies and video games all the time for work — and we bonded over working in proximity with the entertainment industry — but still. It’s marketing. I find myself thinking about moving on and moving forward these days. I haven’t told that to anyone but you, so thank you for listening. _

A thump on his desk startled Troy. 

“Instagram and Twitter analytics and report,” said Abed, poking the sheaf of papers he’d just slapped in front of Troy with a long finger. “Can you pass them onto Shirley for me? Oh, and we’ll need those graphics for the January issue reveal by the end of the week, so hurry up.”

Troy crossed his arms. “What’s the magic word?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Hmm. Five whole words and still no magic.” Troy squinted to maintain his no-nonsense front, but his insides practically shook with mirth at the way Abed’s chocolate eyes bugged out. 

“You’re a child,” Abed said and strutted off.

Troy sighed. “I just want you to be nice to me for once,” he muttered.

He dropped off the report at Shirley’s desk and settled in to craft his reply to Spacetimer8032.

~

“Goodbye, everyone!” Shirley trilled, buttoning her wool coat and shouldering her massive handbag. “Don’t stay too late tonight! Go home to your families. Oh, and please don’t forget to RSVP for the hol-li-day party on the twentieth. Mark down your plus-ones so we know how many to expect!” She winked.

A few mumbling voices, those who hadn’t already bolted when the clock struck five, chorused their assent.

Luckily for him, Abed didn’t have a family to go home to — just an empty one-bedroom apartment lined with vintage movie posters. Resting his chin in his hand, he opened his email inbox for the twelfth time in that hour...and sat bolt upright. 

A reply. At last.

_ I get it. You’re one of the smartest, coolest, most magical people I’ve ever met, and I can only imagine all the amazing things you would do if you felt at home in your occupation. Can I ask, why now? If you’ve been feeling this way since forever, why is it that you’re considering a change in your life at this moment in time?  _

_ Also, yeah, I do enjoy holiday festivities. I love Hallmark movies and seasonal drinks and pretty decorations — maybe nearly as much as you do! _

_ Really the only reason I don’t have established traditions and regular celebrations and stuff is because, well, I don’t have enough people in my life for that.  _

_ I was a pretty popular guy in high school. I was reasonably well-liked in college. But I think you know as well as I do how fast that stuff falls off you. Being good at sports and making the people you pass every day in the hallways feel good does not equate to the lifelong connections all those coming-of-age movies promised me. I still try, I try so hard, I smile and crack jokes even when I don’t feel like it, but no matter what, I don’t stick. It’s like — it’s like they’re a bunch of rubber bands that have wrapped around each other in a big rubber band ball and when you add me, I just stretch and break because they can’t fit me in around them. You know? Wow, that was a weird metaphor. Sorry. _

_ All that’s to say that in order to participate in festivities and celebrations and holiday plans, I feel like I’d need people around me to have plans that I can crash. But if I ever found the right people or person, yeah. I’d like it a lot. _

_ Hey, you should take this as a chance to ask out that guy you like. I know you said you kinda gave up on him, but I don’t know how anyone could say no to you. Trust me, I bet he’d like you back if you gave him the chance to get to know you. _

Abed smiled even as he worried at his lip with his teeth. He wouldn’t have time to reply to the email until he got home this evening — the janitor had started turning off the lights — but EmotionalConstable04’s words already circled Abed’s mind as he mulled over how best to respond.

He stretched his long limbs and shut down the computer. As Abed stood and buttoned his cardigan, the computer-screen glow across the room caught his eye. 

“Troy? What are you still doing here?” Abed said.

Troy looked up and glanced around him, seeming to register how late it had gotten. 

“You’re an intern, it’s not like you’re making bank by working overtime. Come on, let’s go.”

“Go?” Troy said blearily. “I was just working on the January issue reveal graphics…”

Abed’s heart sank. “I just meant to make sure you were making progress. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

Troy gazed back at Abed. The focus returned to his dark eyes now. He tilted his head, a little crease appearing between his brows, and finally gave Abed a slight smile. 

“Alright. If you say so, Mr. Popular.” 

Abed scoffed but neglected to retort. Maybe he’d deserved that one.

They stepped into the elevator together, and in the lobby, Abed held open the door to the street for Troy. They paused outside on the slick sidewalk, tying scarves around their necks and adjusting their hats. 

A soft gasp drew Abed’s attention to Troy, who stuck out a hand. A fluffy snowflake floated onto Troy’s waiting palm. Both men looked up — snowflakes whirled in the dim yellow glow of the streetlights and fizzled into wet concrete and piled on car windshields.

One flake landed on Troy’s eyelashes and he blinked, startled. Abed laughed. Troy frowned, still blinking.

Abed stepped closer and swiped the snowflake away with his thumb. Troy’s eyelid fluttered, warm and unnervingly soft, under his brief touch.

Troy stared, wide-eyed, at Abed. “Um, thanks.”

Abed shrugged and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “So, which way are you headed?” he asked as if he didn’t already know.

“I take the A train to Vincent Street.” Troy jabbed his thumb backward. 

“Same, but the A train to uptown.” Abed licked his lips and hesitated. “Should we walk together?”

Troy’s face cycled through another set of expressions. Abed had always wondered at how Troy’s every emotion played out in full view on his face and body — something he thought Troy might not even realize he did. Confusion, apprehension, tentative hope, and finally resolve each etched themselves across the point of his eyebrows and the curve of his lips. 

Abed had his answer even before Troy nodded and smiled.

They started down the street. Most people initiated small talk in situations like this, Abed knew, but Troy likely wouldn’t enjoy it coming from Abed anyway. So he stared ahead in silence.

“December fifteenth is kind of late for the first snow of the year,” Troy said.

Abed looked at him in surprise. The red neon sign of a bar they walked past lit Troy’s face for half a second.

Troy smiled down at the thin layer of snow that now crunched beneath their shoes. “You know, I used to get so excited about snow as a kid. Did you ever do the thing where you ran outside the morning of the first snowfall in your pajamas? It used to be so magical back then.”

“You don’t do that anymore?” Abed smirked.

Troy shook his head. “I don’t know when it stopped being special. But then something my friend said...it’s reminding me of that excitement. It was so simple — he was just telling me about how he enjoys the way the snow looks at night when it’s just fallen and no one’s touched it yet. And it’s just pristine, glowing in the Christmas lights strung on all the houses.”

Abed almost tripped. Hadn’t he said the same thing to EmotionalConstable04 last night?

“I dunno, I guess it’s just making me appreciate this more. Like maybe I can find magic in the world still.” Troy squinted up at the drifting snow. 

Abed coughed. “That— that’s lovely.”

“Do you celebrate Christmas?” Troy asked.

“Here and there,” hummed Abed. “Not religiously — I was raised Muslim. But my mom — my mom isn’t, and she’s always loved Christmas. She passed that onto me. We have — had, I mean — some traditions growing up.”

“That’s cool,” Troy said. “I’ve never done that. Celebrate Christmas. Or any holidays.”

“Let me guess — Jehovah’s Witness?”

“Yeah, how’d you know? You have Jehovah’s Witness friends?”

“Something like that.” Abed’s breath puffed out in clouds. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. EmotionalConstable04’s job, the way he talked about friends at work, the freaking holiday party… 

They clattered down the stairs into the subway station. The Vincent Street train screeched to a stop on the left platform.

“That’s me,” said Troy. He paused and grinned at Abed, bright under the fluorescent light. “Thanks for walking with me. See you at work tomorrow?”

Abed nodded and waved and watched as Troy jogged to board the train. 

Once Abed stepped onto the uptown train and dropped into a seat, he pulled out his phone. 

~

Troy didn’t notice the notification until after he’d taken a long, hot shower and changed into his softest pajamas. He curled up in his bed, next to the snow-lined window, and opened the email on his laptop. 

_ Constable,  _

_ I know exactly what you mean about fitting in and making connections. Trust me when I tell you that those problems are no fault of your own. You’re brilliant, funny, charming, and a hundred times more interesting than anyone I’ve talked to in a long time.  _

_ As for the guy at work...I’m debating it. I get the sense that he thinks I dislike him, rather than the opposite. I don’t know how I should approach this, but I’ll keep you updated. What do you think — would you take a chance on someone this Christmas, Constable? _

_ I’m experiencing more upheaval recently because… Do you remember when I told you about my tradition of watching Christmas movies with my mom on December 9? We’ve done it every year since she and my dad got divorced. _

_ This year was the first time we didn’t do it. I didn’t get the Christmas card she sent until the morning of December 9. She recently gave birth to my half-brother, so I understand why she couldn’t make it. But it threw me for a bit. I don’t handle disruptions to established routines very well. And the whole thing made me reevaluate what I was doing and where I was going, because everyone else seems to move on so easily. My mother is happily married and starting a new family; my father took longer to recover, but he’s happy too, running his restaurant. It seemed like it was just me struggling to hold these pieces of my life together for so long. _

_ I think I need to be braver starting now. I want to go out there and find what I want instead of taking what’s given to me. _

_ Love, _

_ Inspector _

Troy almost missed it — the four-letter word at the bottom of the email.  _ Love _ . What the hell did that mean? His heart raced as he scanned the email again. So Spacetimer8032 had finally decided to make a move on his crush, but signed off his email to Troy with  _ Love _ ?

Troy groaned and rolled over. Why did Spacetimer8032 insist on torturing him?

~

Abed was yawning over his iced peppermint mocha when the reply popped into his inbox.

_ Good morning, Inspector! _

_ Thanks for saying those nice things. I actually did need to hear them.  _

_ I’m sorry you missed Christmas movies with your mom this year. I know it was tough for you to deal with, but I’m also glad that it led you to open yourself to different paths. I think you already are brave and capable, and I know you’ll crush it no matter where you go next. _

_ I don’t know if there’s anyone  _ for _ me to take a chance on this Christmas. But it’s great that you’re going to try with that guy you like. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have you.  _

Abed smiled. His heart thrummed in his chest as he took a deep breath and typed his question into the text box.

~

_ Do you trust me? _

The four words, the only words Spacetimer8032’s latest email contained, stared back at Troy from his computer screen. 

What did that mean? Did Troy trust him? Well — the guy was a stranger he’d met on the internet. Troy still didn’t know his name or what he looked like or which part of the city he lived in. But...Troy thought back on all the emails they’d exchanged in the last few months. The number on their email thread told him that they had written over two hundred and fifty messages to each other now. Troy had told him things he’d never told anyone in his life, and something about the way Spacetimer8032 confessed some of his thoughts made Troy believe that they hadn’t been spoken to anyone else either. 

Shirley bustled by Troy’s desk with an armful of tinsel for the small Christmas tree in the break room, humming “Here Comes Santa Claus” under her breath. Ugh, he needed to RSVP to that party soon.

He thought about Spacetimer8032’s other question. Would he take a chance on someone this Christmas? He could bring someone to the holiday party. But who? 

Troy looked up in time to see Abed glance at him on his way to the break room. The tall man looked away before Troy could say anything.

Last night had...surprised Troy. Ever since Troy started working at  _ Muse _ , Abed’s main method of communication had consisted only of barbed comments, backhanded compliments, and sarcastic jabs. Yesterday, he’d acted almost...sweet. Almost like the guy every  _ Muse _ employee besides Troy seemed to think Abed was. Troy shivered, remembering the press of Abed’s thumb on the corner of his eye.

Then his cheeks heated. This was Abed he was talking about. In no universe would Abed react to these thoughts with anything but mockery. 

“Annie,” Troy said, turning to his right. “If you fell in love with a strange man on the internet and he asked you if you trusted him, would you say yes?”

“If I what? Oh my god, Troy, are you finally getting with the mystery guy?” Annie squealed.

“What? No! He’s literally about to ask someone else out, I’m pretty sure.”

Annie pouted. “Then why are you asking?”

“I dunno.” Troy sighed.

“Well...do you trust him?” Annie asked.

“I think I do. Is that weird?”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Annie said and smiled. “You know as well as anyone that meaningful connections don’t just have to be face-to-face conversations.”

Troy pressed his lips together. He turned back to the computer, hesitated, and placed his fingers over the keyboard.

~

_ This was a bad idea _ , Troy tapped into his phone. His breath fogged in front of him, obscuring his screen for a moment. Someone pushed out of the nearby gift shop with a sparkly shopping bag, chattering away on their cell phone.

_ Annie <3 [5:04 p.m.]: This was a GREAT idea. Don’t worry, I’ll be right over if the situation turns out to be anything but completely wholesome. _

_ Annie <3 [5:05 p.m.]: The party preparations are going well, thanks for asking. Britta is either already drunk or arrived high :) _

_ Troy [5:05 p.m.]: Sorry, I’m kinda distracted!! Ugh, I wish I was inside with y’all!!! _

_ Troy [5:08 p.m.]: Seriously Annie please omg what if this guy is a serial killer? Or a sociopath? A COOL RANCH LUNATIC??? Or what if he’s _

“Abed?” Troy’s thumb slipped and sent the incomplete message to Annie in the uncoordinated flail he made in response to the marketing manager tapping him on the shoulder.

Abed’s lips tilted up in a hesitant smile. His hands, folded in front of him, twitched against each other before he slipped them into his coat pockets. He had a pine-green scarf looped around his neck and his large eyes glittered with the reflection of the blue-and-white fairy lights wrapped around the streetlight post they stood under.

“Hello, Troy.”

Troy’s eyes darted around the snow-lined street. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the party?”

“Shouldn’t you be?”

“Well...I’m waiting for someone,” Troy relented.

Abed’s smile widened. “Who?”

“... Someone,” Troy said lamely.

Abed stepped closer. “I can’t believe you really came,” he said, softer now.

Troy frowned. “What?”

Abed huffed. “Have you really not figured it out? I mean, it took me a while, certainly, but…” He inched forward, almost toe-to-toe with Troy now. “The pieces are right in front of you now.”

“What? What pieces?” Then Troy panicked. Did Abed know about Spacetimer8032? “Oh my god. Did you hack my email?”

Abed rolled his eyes. “Are you serious right now?”

The tips of Troy’s fingers and toes felt staticky. His brain had gone into overdrive and now everything felt too fast, too hot. 

“Are you okay, Troy?” Abed frowned and reached out. His cool hand wrapped around Troy’s and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole. Do you wanna sit down?”

Abed lowered Troy and himself onto a bench in front of the cafe a few meters away after he brushed the snow off it.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Troy became aware that his hand was still in Abed’s. Abed’s broad, surprisingly strong hand. “Um, yeah.”

“Okay, good.” Abed paused. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Troy said without thinking. 

Abed smiled. “I’m glad you do, Constable.”

Troy jerked back. “So you did read my emails!”

“No, Troy,” Abed groaned.

“Yes, you so did! Holy crap! I  _ knew _ you—”

“Troy!” Abed snapped. “I am the Inspector! I’m Spacetimer8032!”

Troy froze. Abed’s hand loosened and he had started to pull back before Troy scrabbled for it and held fast. 

“I...I need you to tell me,” Troy said slowly, “if you’re messing with me right now. If this is just another one of your — your little jokes.”

“Troy,” said Abed, “I’m not messing with you.” He hooked a finger beneath Troy’s chin and guided his eyes toward his own. “I really, really like you. I — I never hated you. I just really need to work on communicating with you better.”

Troy chuckled hoarsely. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“I can’t believe I fell for you twice.”

“I can’t believe we fell for each other twice.”

Abed’s gaze snapped up at that. People often thought of Abed as an inexpressive person, Troy realized, but he easily read the shock and faint hope in the barely-perceptible tilt of Abed’s head, the widening of his pupils, the uncurling of his bottom lip. 

“Come on. You have to know I don’t act that embarrassing in front of  _ everyone _ ,” Troy said with a smirk.

Abed’s eyes crinkled in the corners. His long fingers stroked across Troy’s knuckles as he interlaced their fingers. 

“I did come here to ask you another question,” Abed said.

Troy gave him a quizzical glance.

“Will you come to the holiday party with me? As my date?” 

Troy didn’t know how many times his heart could skip a beat before it would be considered unhealthy. 

“Yes,” he said in a rush of breath. 

~

A vinyl recording of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” floated around the corner from the break room as they stepped off the elevator. Abed reached out and snaked his hand into Troy’s, enjoying the tingle that travelled up his arm at the warm touch. 

Annie and Shirley had outdone themselves — twinkling fairy lights draped across the walls, the smell of pine permeated the air, and a holly wreath hung on the open door of the break room. 

Laughter bubbled inside. Britta had abandoned her usual sweater and glasses for a burgundy dress and silver eyeshadow. Jeff leaned against the table of snacks as he conversed with her, sleeves rolled up to elbows and bow-tie undone. Annie wore a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer sweater over her miniskirt and she linked arms with Shirley in her gold dress as they sang along with the record and brandished flutes of champagne.

Annie broke off when she saw Troy and Abed enter. Her eyes drifted to their joined hands without a second’s delay. She elbowed Shirley and hissed, none too softly, “You owe me twenty dollars!”

Abed lifted two champagne glasses from the tray by the door and handed one to Troy, who took a sip and smiled.

“Um, guys?” 

Abed looked up to see Britta grinning at them like a cat. She cast her eyes upward and Abed followed.

Mistletoe.

Abed bit his lip and glanced sidelong at Troy. Troy was standing closer than Abed had thought, and his eyes were already on Abed’s lips.

Abed couldn’t tell if everyone had gone silent or if it just felt like everything in the world had fallen away from his senses — everything but Troy, whose breath alighted on his lips, whose eyelashes trembled so close Abed thought he could feel their fan, whose warmth radiated against Abed’s skin.

“You don’t have to ask,” Troy whispered, so quietly even Abed struggled to pick it up. “The answer is yes.”

He drew Abed in, rose on tiptoe, and pressed his lips to Abed’s.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you thank you thank you for reading :) *dean voice* merry happy! 
> 
> find me on tumblr @[sleepy-santiago](sleepy-santiago.tumblr.com)!


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